


Offscreen

by Matril



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Fun with the source material, Missing Moments, Off camera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matril/pseuds/Matril
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing moments, adapted from passages from the original novel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Against any description of finery

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'd better get this up here before the novelization comes out and canon-balls everything. ;)

Lizzie glanced at Jane, who had not stopped smiling the whole way home from the wedding. "Well, I'm glad someone had fun tonight," she said, a little more sardonically than she intended.

Jane turned to her with wide eyes as they started up the walk to their front door. "Did you not have a good time, Lizzie?"

"Wow. No, I definitely didn't. I thought it was pretty obvious. Were you that distracted by the charming Mr. Lee's attentions?"

She assumed Jane was blushing even though it was too dark to tell. Before the conversation could get any further, however, their mother came bustling up the walk and engulfed Jane in a suffocating embrace. "Talking about your new beau, Jane? I don't blame you; he is quite a catch! I can't wait to tell your father all about it. Why he insisted on leaving right after the ceremony, I can't imagine." Pausing at the door, she turned and added, "Oh, help Lydia out of the car, won't you, dears? She might have had a teensy bit too much to drink."

Lizzie and Jane exchanged looks before heading back to haul their near-comatose sister out of the car – the result of a volatile combination of champagne and extra-sugary wedding cake. Between Lydia's antics, their mother's shameless gloating about Jane and Bing Lee, and the hideous non-pleasure of meeting William Darcy, Lizzie was thinking her father had the right idea in skipping the reception entirely. She should have gone with him when he caught a ride home with a neighbor.

Of course, now he was being subjected to a detailed recapping from their mother. They helped Lydia inside just in time to hear her gush, "Oh, and Jane! I swear, she rivaled the bride herself. The men couldn't keep their eyes off her."

"Hopefully the groom was an exception," their father said dryly, not looking up from his book.

"And Bing Lee," she sighed, positively blissful. "Every woman's eye was on him, but who did he pick to dance with? Guess!" Jane's face was a vivid red as she and Lizzie settled Lydia onto the couch.

Their father turned a page and said distantly, "I can't possibly imagine."

"Jane! _Our_ Jane. Dance after dance after dance. Of course to be polite he had to ask a few other girls," she waved her hand in annoyance, "but none of them had more than one dance with him. Let's see – there was Charlotte, and Anna Lewis, and Gracie Peters, and – who was the other –"

"Enough," their father cut in, finally looking up from his book. "Did Bing Lee spend the entire night on the ballroom floor? If only he'd sprained his ankle after the first dance!"

Lizzie held back a snort of laughter. Their mother, undeterred, went on in a different direction. "And his sister is so fashionable, such an _exotic_ beauty." Now Lizzie and Jane exchanged looks of horror. They would have to beg her not to use that word if she was around the Lees or, well, anyone else at all. "Did you see her dress? It must have cost her –"

"No." Their father held up a hand. "I draw the line at descriptions of clothing. You know that."

"Yes, dear," their mother sighed. "Well, I'm sorry to say that not all of Bing Lee's party was so likeable. That William Darcy fellow – looking down his nose at everyone! Oh, if only someone else had caught the garter. Poor Lizzie. No one asked her to dance all night, and then she was made to shuffle around with that sneering, uppity man."

Lizzie tried not to clench her teeth. "I didn't _want_ to dance with anyone. It was by choice. And as for that forced, so-called dance –" She shook her head. "The less said about it, the better."

Another exaggerated sigh from their mother. "Yes, yes. How we're ever going to get you married, Lizzie, I can't imagine. But Jane – oh, Jane! You and Bing make such a perfect couple –"

"Come on, let's get Lydia up to her room," Lizzie said hurriedly, in the way of rescuing her sister. Jane cast her a grateful look, and they started toward the stairs with their little sister between them. Their mother's shameless effusions continued to ring out behind them.


	2. Rather affected your admiration

After the Bennet sisters had been at Netherfield about a week, Caroline was savvy enough to realize that directly insulting Lizzie wasn't going to discourage Darcy's interest in her. So she changed tack. One evening after both Jane and Lizzie had gone to bed, she sighed and said to Bing, "I'm worried Lizzie has caught whatever Jane has. She's not looking well at all."

"You think so?" Bing asked, his forehead furrowing, but Caroline's attention was on Darcy's slight reaction – a raise of his eyebrows as he sat in the corner of the lounge with his ever-present laptop. "She isn't acting sick."

"No? She's going to bed early, isn't she?" Caroline knew that Lizzie had, in fact, left to escape Darcy's presence, but she wasn't about to reveal that. "And she's so pale, did you notice?"

Bing laughed. "I don't think she's any paler than usual. Redheads are naturally fair-skinned."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that," Caroline said. "What a relief. I was afraid she wasn't taking care of herself. _She_ doesn't have an adoring admirer to nurse her back to health, after all."

Her brother blushed. "I just want to make sure Jane is comfortable here. Especially when she's feeling under the weather."

"Mmm." She exchanged looks with Darcy, who rolled his eyes. He recoiled, as she had hoped, from the thought of becoming a sappy and insufferable boyfriend like Bing was to Jane. This was going well, and she wasn't even done yet. "Well, I'm glad to know she's not sick. Still…"

"What is it?"

"Even her fellow redheads aren't quite that pale. Do you think she gets enough sunshine? I hardly ever see her spending time outside." She paused, savoring Darcy's frowning gaze that she could catch from the corner of her eye. "I suppose it's not unusual for a bookworm type, but it really is worrying. Does she even exercise at all?"

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing to worry about," Bing said, bewildered. "She looks healthy to me."

"Darcy, your sister's rather fair-skinned, wouldn't you say?" Caroline went on. "But I assume you wouldn't want her to stay cooped-up all day."

"No. She enjoys many outdoor activities."

Caroline crossed the lounge and settled in the chair next to his. "I'm just concerned about the idea of a woman who doesn't take care of herself. She may be in danger of losing that special _sparkle_ in her eyes."

Without looking up from his laptop screen Darcy said, "No danger of that."

All right, so that ploy had fallen flat. Still, it was only a temporary setback. Darcy would be cured of this ridiculous infatuation by the time the Bennets left Netherfield. Caroline would see to it personally.


	3. Starve it entirely away

Jane knew it was probably a lost cause to hope that Lizzie would ever get along with Darcy, but that didn't mean she was going to give up hoping. They really had more in common than Lizzie would admit. Unfortunately, living under the same roof with him didn't seem to be helping matters.

Lizzie was scowling at him right now as he turned on some music and adjusted the volume for a few seconds. What could she possibly find wrong with that? It was very thoughtful of him to create a relaxing atmosphere as they settled down in the lounge for the evening. True, his tastes in music were a little far from the mainstream, but Lizzie had been known to listen to an indie band or two herself. She really wasn't being very open-minded.

"Jane," Lizzie said suddenly, a sly grin appearing on her face, "do you know what this song reminds me of?"

Jane was wary, not wanting to open the way for Lizzie to insult Darcy, but she said calmly, "What is it?"

"The song that guy wrote for you when you were fifteen. Do you remember?"

"Oh!" Jane's face went hot. Yes, she remembered. "Poor Greg."

"Who's Greg?" Bing asked, grinning.

"Oh, he was very sweet," Jane said earnestly. "I don't want to make fun of him."

"He was this guy who had this huge crush on Jane in high school," Lizzie said, her voice verging into fake melodrama. "He composed a ballad to confess his undying love. But his songwriting skills were…."

"Undeveloped," Jane finished.

Lizzie let out a short laugh. "That's one way of putting it. So he serenaded her in the parking lot after school one day. A crowd gathered and started making fun of him – Jane was not one of them, but it didn't matter. That was the end of his crush. Nothing like writing a cheesy song to smother the stirrings of romance."

Darcy spoke up for the first time, his gaze intent on Lizzie. "I had always understood that love songs encouraged romance."

"Sure, if it's genuine, full-fledged love. But not some silly infatuation. It doesn't take much to starve that away completely." She topped this off with a defiant look as if waiting for Darcy to insult her, but he only responded with that mild look where the corners of his mouth tugged upwards – the one Jane recognized as a smile, even if Lizzie didn't.

Afterwards, Darcy changed the music to some kind of instrumental jazz.


	4. Could not but smile at such a conclusion

Mrs. Bennet had long given up hope that Lizzie's looks or charm would get her a husband. She was pretty, to be sure, but too often she was overshadowed by Jane's ethereal beauty. As for her charm, well! Lizzie wouldn't know how to be demure if her life depended on it.

So there would have to be some alternate route to finding Lizzie a secure future. Getting a job would be a decent start. A career woman had to be at least more appealing to men than a graduate student living with her parents, wouldn't she? So when young Mr. Collins confided in her that he intended to offer Lizzie a lucrative position at his company, Mrs. Bennet was delighted. She smoothed the way for him every way she could, with dinner invitations, frequent compliments about his business acumen, and plenty of praise for Lizzie's intelligence and work ethic. The day Mr. Collins went purposefully into Lizzie's room, clutching a satchel full of incentives, Mrs. Bennet could barely contain her excitement. She waited in the doorway of her own room, watching the hallway until he reemerged.

"Well!" she said cheerily, seizing Mr. Collins's hand and shaking it. "This has all worked out nicely, hasn't it?"

"Ah, Mrs. Bennet," he replied, returning the handshake. "Yes, your daughter will be a welcome addition to Collins and Collins. We just have a few...wrinkles to work out, so to speak."

The beginnings of dread began to creep upon her. "Wrinkles? She _did_ accept your offer, didn't she?"

"Technically, we have not yet reached an agreement, but thanks to her savvy negotiating skills, it appears she is holding out in the hopes of eliciting a more beneficial offer."

This was a very bad sign. "Lizzie's not _that_ clever at negotiating. More likely, she's just being stubborn. But don't you worry; I'll talk some sense into her."

Mr. Collins frowned, another very bad sign. "Not that clever? Stubborn? Mrs. Bennet, I fear those are not traits which recommend her for the position I am looking to fill."

"Oh, no, no," she said, growing more desperate, "she just has this teensy little rebellious streak, that's all. It won't affect her ability to work at your company in the slightest."

He remained doubtful. "Mrs. Bennet, I thank you for your considerable hospitality, but perhaps it would be best if I departed at this time."

"Yes, yes, I understand," she said, near tears. "But please won't you join us again for dinner tomorrow? We must hear more about how your dear mother is doing before you've finished packing her house."

"Of course. I am delighted, as always, by your magnanimous invitations, Mrs. Bennet."

As soon as she had seen him out the door, she stormed into Lizzie's room in a fury.

Her daughter, instead of being abashed or sheepish, looked peeved. As if _she_ was the one who'd been wronged! "Please tell me you didn't invite him to come back tomorrow," she groaned from her spot on her bed.

Mrs. Bennet folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, yes I did. And I'll have him over every day until you come to your senses."

"Are you saying you actually _want_ me to work for that pompous idiot?"

"This has always been your problem – whether it's men or jobs or whatever, you're far too _picky_. Mark my words, Lizzie, you'll learn to regret it someday."

Lizzie just let out a noise of exasperation and buried her head in her pillows.

Well, if she couldn't talk any sense into Lizzie, maybe her father could. Mrs. Bennet left the room in a huff and hurried down to talk to her husband. He was holed away in his study as always, chuckling over a book. She snatched it from his hand and said, "You must do something about that daughter of yours! She's rejected Mr. Collins and now he's starting to think of rejecting _her_."

He peered up at her, pulling his pipe from his mouth. "I haven't the pleasure of understanding you," he said. "What's all this about?"

"Oh, young Mr. Collins offered Lizzie a lucrative position at his company, and she turned him down, and he's begun to think he doesn't want her after all!"

"What would you have me do about it? It seems a hopeless mess."

"Don't be silly, dear! You speak to Lizzie. Tell her what a foolish girl she's being."

He stood. "Let's go speak with her. I'll offer my opinion."

Much heartened by his support, she took his arm and they went upstairs to Lizzie's room together. He knocked on the closed door, and Lizzie's petulant voice called out, "What now?"

"It's me, Lizzie," he answered. Seconds passed, and then the door opened, revealing Lizzie's angry face. "And your mother," her father added belatedly as Lizzie scowled at Mrs. Bennet. "Have a seat."

Lizzie flopped back onto her bed. Her father stood beside her, hands behind his back. "I understand that Ricky Collins has made you a job offer?"

"Yes."

"And you turned him down?"

"Yes."

"And now we come to the important point. Your mother believes you have made a serious mistake. She'll be very unhappy with you if don't change your mind and accept the offer, isn't that so, dear?"

"Yes," Mrs. Bennet cried, "If she can't come to her senses I'll never be able to speak to her again!"

"Indeed. Well, Lizzie, you have a very unhappy choice before you. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. If you do not accept Ricky Collins's offer your mother will never speak to you again. And _I_ will never speak to you again if you _do_."

Mrs. Bennet gasped in horror. She had been so sure her husband was on her side! Yes, she had exaggerated a bit in claiming she wouldn't speak to Lizzie again, but – "My dear! How could you possibly approve of our daughter's choice?" To make matters worse, Lizzie had that scrunched-up look on her face, the one that meant she was holding back laughter. The sheer nerve, the audacity! "Am I the only one in this family who cares about what will happen to our children when we're dead and buried?" She ran from the room, dismayed and wounded.

Jane poked her head from her bedroom. "Mom? Are you all right?"

"Oh, Jane! At least I know you'll be taken care of. Dear, dear, Bing!" And she burst into tears while Jane patted her shoulder bewilderingly.


	5. Jilt you creditably

Mr. Bennet could see Lizzie was trying not to be gloomy after Jane left for Los Angeles, but it was obvious how much she missed her sister. And maybe something else was bothering her too. He knew she would never admit it, so he pretended to be talking about Jane instead. "Well, Lizzie," he said, settling down to the table after his wife and Lydia had finished dinner and gone off to their respective occupations, "your sister's had a little heartbreak, hasn't she?"

"Mm." Lizzie traced her fork around an empty plate.

"It's too bad, but there's always a silver lining in these matters. Don't women like a bit of drama in their lives? While I'm sure they'd prefer the happily-ever-afters, having one's heart broken is practically the next best thing."

Lizzie eyed him incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Certainly. Wouldn't you like a turn?" He winked at her. "I'm sure you could find some fellow to do the same for you. What about that swimming coach, George What's-his-name?"

"No thanks. You have to give someone your heart to have them break it. And trust me, dad, there's no danger of that."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. He left town anyway. Turns out he was kind of – flaky."

"What a shame, Lizzie. And you, with your heart intact."

"You are so weird, dad," Lizzie said, but she was laughing.

"That's my girl." He leaned over and gave her a quick hug. "Someday you'll find someone far more worthy of a Bing Lee-level heartbreak. You deserve the very best, after all."


	6. The possibility of his being partial

"So, Charlotte," Lizzie said as she set up her camera tripod, "I was confused at first why you chose this office suite, tucked way at the back of the building, but it makes perfect sense now."

"Really?" Charlotte kept her face impassive.

"Yup. It's about as far from Ricky's office as possible. He'd probably pop into my videos three times as often if we were on his side of the building. Here, there's a far lower chance of bumping into him in the hallway."

Charlotte's voice was perfectly innocent. "I can't imagine what you mean. Why would I want to avoid meeting with my boss unless absolutely necessary?"

"Diplomatic as always, _Miss Lu_. But I can see through your little ploy." Lizzie poked her in the arm. "It's a pretty good arrangement, smaller office notwithstanding. You get to spend most of the day Collins-free." She made a face like a six-year-old facing a plate full of vegetables. "I wish I could say the same about Darcy. He's _always_ running into me. I even told him I usually hung out in this back corner so he'd know to avoid it, but it's like he's so dense he couldn't get the message."

"Really?" Charlotte said again, just as impassive, but her thoughts were taking a far different direction now. "You don't think he comes to this corner on purpose?"

"Why? You think he's trying to intimidate me? Because it's not going to work." Lizzie straightened to her full height, which would have put her somewhere below Darcy's shoulder. "I'm not scared of him."

"Good for you," Charlotte said vaguely. "Well, I have work to do. Have fun filming your video."

"Thanks. I've got to make it quick; I'm meeting Fitz for lunch today. Isn't it bizarre how nice and fun he is?"

Setting her hand on the doorknob, Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Yes, nice and fun people are always a shock."

"You know what I mean. Why does he put up with Darcy?"

"Good question. Maybe you could ask him at lunch."

"Ha ha. See you later."

"See ya." Charlotte shook her head as soon as she had shut the door behind her. She wasn't going to press the issue, but Lizzie was being pretty obtuse. Sure, Darcy's behavior could be kind of cryptic, but if anything he seemed like an awkward admirer. He hadn't asked Lizzie out or showered her with compliments or anything like normal flirting, but the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room and possibly the entire world? Yeah, that was hard to miss.

Every time Charlotte or Jane had suggested that idea to Lizzie, she had laughed and gagged and remained completely in denial. There was a tiny part of Charlotte – not the kindest part, she acknowledged – that imagined the satisfaction of saying _I told you_ so if she was ever proven right about Darcy. But it was probably better if that never happened. For Darcy's sake as well as Lizzie's.


	7. A contrariety of emotion they excited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of several internal monologues for Lizzie in this fic. :)

Lizzie hardly even knew what she was reading. The words ran before her eyes, at times a meaningless jumble, at times as precise as a pinprick. She hurried onto the next sentence before she'd caught half the meaning of the previous one. What was she in a hurry for? Finding proof that Darcy was the most hateful man on earth? She could take her time with that, couldn't she?

Right away she realized she would have to turn off the camera. She felt her hardened expression slipping away into something else; she didn't know what, and she was suddenly afraid to have she-didn't-know-what caught on camera. She had no idea what to expect when she opened the letter. Insults, maybe? An angry tirade about how she'd tangled with the wrong man, and she'd rue the day? Whatever. This was definitely not among her expectations.

At first, everything he wrote about Jane and Bing made her angry, assuring her that this letter only proved how right she was about Darcy. Not a single word of apology, nothing but arrogant claims that he thought he was doing what was best for his friend.

When she got to the next part, her anger withered up and died.

Oh, she tried to stay angry. She told herself Darcy was a shameless liar, making up all sorts of junk to try to cover up what George had exposed. The thought that she was wrong, that George was the liar and Darcy was – what, the _hero_? – was unbearable.

Without reading the ending she threw down the letter, stood up, and started putting away her filming equipment. She was done. Definitely done. Why keep reading when it was messing with her mind so much? She didn't owe Darcy anything.

Her resolve didn't last a minute. Sinking back to the bench, she resumed reading, forcing herself to concentrate on every detail. More and more she had to acknowledge the contrast between Darcy's story and George's. Darcy was over-formal as always, like he was stuck in the wrong century, but he was much more specific and frank. Looking back, she realized that George had been really vague when he talked about Darcy's wrongdoing, letting Lizzie's outrage carry most of the conversation. Darcy didn't flinch from the ugly parts, but in a way he was kinder to George than George had been to him – suggesting reasons why he did what he did, addressing the difficulty of growing up alongside rich people when you weren't rich yourself.

Was this for real? Was she actually leaning toward believing _Darcy_?

She tried desperately to scrounge up something to weigh the scales in George's favor again. There must be at least some act of basic human decency she could attribute to him, something without any ulterior motive. Covering up beer puddles for her didn't quite cut it; that was flirting. Had he ever done something nice without any benefit to himself, something obviously unselfish? She could not come up with a single incident, but she clung to the hope of some inner virtue. Until she came to the part about Darcy's sister.

There was no escape route after that. Darcy wouldn't make up something this awful; she was sure of it. He was too proud to fabricate something that humiliated his sister, and himself by association. More than that, she could look back at his mood during the summer and recognize too late that he might have been brooding over some horrible recent calamity. Maybe he was actually a pleasant person beforehand. No, that was impossible. Still, the mess with George and his sister could explain why he was particularly silent and withdrawn.

What _was_ possible – probable, even – was that George Wickham was a liar.

Several memories of him appeared to her in a new, harsh light. Not showing up at Bing's party? His story about helping a friend seemed at lot less likely than being a coward who didn't want Darcy confronting him. Not calling her for days, then leaving town with barely a moment's notice? She'd pegged him as a little flaky, but that was giving him too much credit. He was an inconsiderate jerk.

She could see it now – the way George had insinuated himself into her life and into her videos. And he kept trying to push further, to get her to admit they were in a relationship, to be just a little more physical than she wanted to. She shuddered now at the memory.

She stood again, this time needing a break before she got sick to her stomach. How often she had claimed to be an excellent judge of character – bragged about it, even – and here she'd completely screwed up her judgment of not one but two people. All her surprise about Darcy being friends with great guys like Bing and Fitz had somehow never led her to admit he might be kind of decent himself. She couldn't be blind now. She might have been stubbornly, willfully ignorant for months, but she could admit defeat when there was no other way out, no explanations or justifications. She had been wrong.

With this admission, she knew she would have to go back and re-read the beginning of the letter, this time allowing for the possibility that Darcy wasn't evil incarnate. It was a vastly different experience than the first read-through. Though she was still furious that he had interfered, she could see that he sincerely thought he was helping Bing. And having watched her videos, he was able to acknowledge that Jane's feelings were stronger than he previously thought. It wasn't an apology; still, it was progress. Sure, now she was angry at Bing too, but distributing it between him and Darcy, it somehow wasn't as strong. It was a confused anger, and she didn't know what to do with it.

Only one thing was certain – she was _not_ going to talk about it on her videos.


	8. But such a quantity of merit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me a lot of trouble, trying to cram it into the timeline without messing up any continuity. I just really wanted to include this exchange between Lizzie and Jane. :)

The day before Thanksgiving was a terrible time to be on the road. Jane was lucky enough to get Tuesday off of work, so her travel experience wasn't nearly as grueling as Lizzie and Charlotte's. She waited up for them, getting occasional calls from Lizzie with updates of their slow progress. It was nearly midnight by the time the car pulled into the driveway. Jane got up from the front step, waving merrily. Lizzie emerged with a positively haggard expression and stumbled up the walk.

"Unnnngh. I never want to sit in a car again."

Jane just laughed and hugged her. "Let me help you with your things. You'll feel better once you've had a night of sleep in your own bed."

Once they had unloaded the car and seen Charlotte on her way to the Lu house, Jane carried Lizzie's suitcase upstairs while her sister trailed behind, letting out a half-hearted protest. "You really don't have to do that, Jane."

"You've had a long drive. I'm sure you're very stiff."

"You had a longer drive yesterday."

"More miles, yes. But less stress." She set the suitcase neatly next to Lizzie's bed. "Would you like some tea?"

"Jane! You are the queen of niceness." Lizzie hugged her again. "I've _really_ missed you. Don't go running off to make tea. She sat down and patted the spot on the bed next to her. "Let's talk."

"Are you sure you don't want to go straight to sleep?"

"There'll be plenty of sleeping after turkey tomorrow. I need to tell you something, and it can't wait."

Jane shut the door, took a seat and looked at Lizzie earnestly. "Oh, no, is it something serious?"

"No – not exactly." Lizzie stared at the carpet. "You haven't seen any of my videos from the last month?"

"I'm so sorry, Lizzie. I kept meaning to catch up with them, but I've hardly had a minute to myself since I started my new job – I feel just terrible."

"Don't. It's better if I tell you in person, anyway." Lizzie sighed. "So…Darcy came to Collins and Collins."

"Oh, yes, I think I remember Lydia mentioning something about that. Why was he there?" Jane had the beginnings of a suspicion, but she wasn't about to voice it.

"Supposedly, to monitor corporate progress. Also, turns out he's Catherine de Bourgh's nephew. Also," she made a choking noise before going on, "he told me he was in love with me." She moaned and buried her face in Jane's shoulder.

Jane somehow kept herself from pulling away in surprise, instead giving Lizzie an absent-minded, comforting pat. "He told you that? Those exact words?"

She cleared her throat. " _I've been fighting against this for months now, but Lizzie Bennet, I'm in love with you._ That's verbatim."

Lizzie always did have a good memory for people's conversations. It was a curse as much as a blessing. Jane did notice, though, that she refrained from taking on the exaggerated deep, robotic voice she usually used for Darcy. "Oh, Lizzie. What did you say?"

"What do you think?" came her muffled voice. She lifted her head a little and went on drearily, "I told him what I thought of him, insulted him every way I knew how, accused him of – a bunch of things, some more valid than others – and told him about my videos."

Now Jane could not help pulling away. To find out that Darcy was in love with her sister was surprising, but not entirely unexpected. Jane had always known he didn't hate her like Lizzie thought he did; she just hadn't known how strong his feelings actually were. But Lizzie, telling him about her videos? It was bizarre, shocking, unsettling. "Lizzie…what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking at all. I was angry, and he was so completely oblivious to how much I hated him, and then it just kind of popped out. It didn't help that he had unknowingly walked into the middle of one of those videos."

"You caught his confession of love on camera?"

Another moan, and Lizzie flopped down to her pillows. "Episode 60."

"You posted it." Jane tried to keep any judgment from her voice, but really, how could Lizzie think it was all right?

"If you can believe it, that's far from the worst thing I did. You know those accusations I mentioned?"

"What exactly did you say? Oh no." Jane looked at her sternly. "You didn't accuse him of separating me and – and Bing?" She hated that it was still hard just to say his name. "You know that's nothing but paranoia."

Lizzie shook her head. "This is the part I didn't want to tell you about, Jane." She sat up in grim determination. "But you deserve to know it. Yeah, he did. Darcy convinced Bing to leave for L.A. He told him that you weren't that into him. What's worse, Darcy really believed it. He thought he was protecting Bing from heartbreak or being used or something."

"He – he did?" Jane said faintly. She was oddly detached, as if hearing the words from a distance, from a story she had no part in. Being used? Darcy really thought –?

"He didn't deny it when I accused him," Lizzie said heavily. "I wish it _was_ just paranoia. I'm so sorry to bring it up." She pulled Jane close in a half-hug. "It's just, I know you never got closure, and that's not fair."

"Yeah. Uh-huh." She wasn't sure what else to say, or what she was really feeling.

"Anyway," Lizzie said hurriedly, "that wasn't the accusation I was talking about. I said he had ruined George Wickham's life."

Jane couldn't deny she was relieved to change the topic from Bing. But this subject was hardly pleasant. "Oh, no. What did he say?"

"He got really angry and fumed for a bit, but it didn't all come out until the letter."

"What letter?"

Before Lizzie could answer, her door burst open and Lydia appeared, sleepy-eyed and wearing rumpled pajamas. "Oh, you're finally here. Did you drive, like, 10 miles an hour the whole way home?"

"Felt like it," Lizzie said grumpily. "Good to see you too, Lydia."

Their little sister plopped down next to Jane. "So, are we talking about Darcy? Because, ewwww."

"That's not very nice," Jane said mildly.

"Lizzie was totally grossed out, though. Weren't you?"

Lizzie just shrugged. "It's not really a memory I enjoy, I'll say that much. Can we go to bed now?"

Jane frowned. She was sure Lizzie hadn't told her everything she wanted to. Obviously she didn't want to say any more with Lydia in the room. It was a shame. Lydia might actually appreciate being included among Lizzie' s confidants. But Jane wasn't going to push that issue right now. "That's a good idea. Good night, Lizzie. Good night, Lydia."

It wasn't until the following Sunday evening, after Lizzie had filmed another video, that Jane had another moment alone with her. Lydia had just left to go out with Mary for frozen yogurt, so there was no danger of her intruding – if that was, in fact, what had kept Lizzie from continuing the other night. Jane ventured into her room and asked if she wanted to resume the conversation. "You were talking about a letter, I think?"

Lizzie shifted uneasily on the bed. "Yeah. So." Jane took a seat and watched her earnestly. "Darcy watched my videos, and the next week he came and brought me a letter. Like, an old-fashioned, handwritten on a piece of paper kind of letter. It explained some of what I already said about – you know, about Bing – but mostly it talked about George. Really awful stuff. Squandering his inheritance, dishonoring Darcy's dead parents, using an innocent girl to get revenge on Darcy." She looked as if she might be sick. "And I thought he was charming."

"So that's why you weren't happy when Lydia said he was back in town." Hesitantly Jane wondered, "You don't think Darcy was making it up, do you?" She didn't want to believe that herself, but she didn't want to think George was a liar either. "Maybe there was some kind of – mutual misunderstanding."

"No, Jane. This wasn't the kind of stuff you could just make up. Too many details, too much corroboration." Her mouth twisted in a humorless smile. "There's no way you can make them both good. Between the two of them, there's just about enough goodness for one person. And I'm starting to believe it's all on Darcy's side."

Jane didn't have Lizzie's talent for remembering everything, but there floated back to her the phrase _oblivious to how much I hated him._ Hated, not hate. Past tense. "Lizzie…what do you think of Darcy now?"

Lizzie stiffened. "I'm…trying not to," she said evasively.

"But you don't hate him anymore."

"Mmph. What does that word even mean? It was fun at first, mocking him all the time on my videos. I think that's why I got into it so much. It made me feel clever. And then it made me feel superior. It kind of went on longer and farther than I ever intended. Obviously, I went too far."

"Did you contact Darcy after you read the letter?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course not."

"Not even to apologize?"

Lizzie looked away uncomfortably. "Well, he left Collins and Collins in a big hurry after that. Guess he can't even stand to be in the same town as me anymore."

"Oh, Lizzie, do you really believe that?"

"After what I said to him? And after he saw my videos? Yeah, I believe it. Look, Jane, if I thought he'd appreciate a face-to-face apology, or even a phone call, maybe I'd do it. But it's obvious he doesn't want any contact. I'm not going to mention him on my videos anymore, and that's a better apology than anything else, isn't it?"

"Do you think he's watching your videos now?"

"If he is, he hasn't told me," Lizzie said dryly. "But that's not the point. If I only stop saying mean things about him because I think he might be watching, then I'm just a coward trying to avoid a lawsuit. Even if he's not watching, I shouldn't be bad-mouthing him on a public vlog. It's….I don't know, petty. Ugly." She frowned and shrugged her shoulders as if she were trying to rid herself of something. "But does it really matter what I think of Darcy? What do _you_ think? Now that you know what he did, I wouldn't blame you for hating him."

Jane shook her head slowly. "No….that's too strong a word. I'm very sorry he misunderstood me so badly. I wish he hadn't. But I can't put all the blame on him, and even if I could, I don't want to hold a grudge. I'd rather move on with my life."

"Oh, Jane," Lizzie said, accompanied with an enormous yawn, "you, on the other hand, have the goodness of ten people. And I've had too many late nights. I'd better get to bed early tonight."

"Of course. Good night, Lizzie."

"Night, Jane."

Was she really getting tired just now, or was she faking it to stop any further talk of Darcy? Jane wasn't suspicious by nature, but she couldn't help wondering. Maybe Lydia wasn't the only sister Lizzie wasn't fully confiding in.


	9. Obliged to assume a disinclination

The email arrived in Dr. Gardiner's inbox two days after she gave Lizzie the information about her new company shadowing. She was surprised it had taken that long.

_Hi, Dr. Gardiner!_

_After doing a little research into Pemberley Digital, I have some concerns about starting a shadowing there. It's a much larger company than Collins and Collins, and I'm worried that its size could prevent me from having as many personal interactions. If you know of any other companies I could shadow instead, I would be interested in looking at them._

_Thanks,_

_Lizzie_

Really. Too big? That was the best she could come up with? Dr. Gardiner started composing a reply, searching for just the right diplomatic response. She could have been blunt and written _Lizzie, you know I've seen your videos. It's not big companies that you're scared of._ But she didn't need to stoop to that. When Fitz Williams had contacted her and they began to arrange the shadowing, she hadn't been interested in matchmaking or creating awkward situations. Pemberley Digital was a genuinely excellent opportunity for a mass communications student, and she wasn't about to let Lizzie lose that opportunity because of personal issues.

_Lizzie-_

_I would have thought after researching Pemberley, you would be thrilled to shadow there. Don't let its size fool you into thinking it's a soulless corporation; the staff are really quite personable. And its resources are incredible. It is one of the premiere digital media companies in the country._

_If you need more forceful convincing, I might remind you that your graduation schedule depends on a timely completion of your independent studies projects. Setting up a new project would mean more delays, and delays would prevent you from gaining your degree in May. If you truly feel this shadowing won't work for you, I'll see what else we can do, but I hope you will reconsider Pemberley's value._

_All the best,_

_Dr. Gardiner_

She didn't hear back from Lizzie immediately, which alarmed her somewhat. Was she seriously considering jeopardizing her graduation plans just to avoid a certain CEO? But at last, in the afternoon, she received Lizzie's reply. It was brief and to the point. _I understand; you're right. I'll give it a try._

Just before Lizzie's arrival in San Francisco, Dr. Gardiner called her to make sure everything was arranged for her house-sitting. They talked about getting the keys, how often the plants needed to be watered, and plenty of other mundane things. Dr. Gardiner had expected a note of panic in Lizzie's tone, but she seemed calmer now, more adjusted to the idea of going to Pemberley. It puzzled her until she glanced at Lizzie's Twitter feed and realized she was now following William Darcy. Who had just announced that he would be in Los Angeles for the time being.

Aha. Well, if it got Lizzie to Pemberley, that was all that mattered.


	10. It arrested her

It took a lot of self-control not to squeal when Lizzie Bennet showed up for her tour. Gigi forced herself to give a normal smile, shake Lizzie's hand and start leading her beyond the lobby of Pemberley Digital's main building. She was pretty proud of how well she kept her excitement under control.

There was one part that almost gave her away, though. Not the fact that she knew about Lizzie's videos or that she was trying to get her together with her brother, but that she was a Darcy. When she took Lizzie to the Memorial Hall, she couldn't talk about her parents with a calm and detached voice. Of course she couldn't. Why did she think she could? It wasn't so bad touring the art collection and the theater and the conferences rooms, but the greenhouse garden – a place Mom would have _loved_ – she couldn't even mention it without getting a lump in her throat.

She managed to cover it up with a cough and hurried Lizzie along to the performance space. On the way, however, Lizzie stopped and stared at one of the photographs hanging on the long wall of the corridor. Oh, no. Was that a Darcy family picture? Gigi joined her and hid a sigh of relief. It was a family picture, but an old one, with only a very young William and their parents.

"This is your CEO, when he was boy?" Lizzie had a strange look on her face. Gigi didn't know what to make of it.

"Yup, that's William Darcy."

Lizzie blinked, then nodded and moved on down the corridor…only to stop again at a much more recent picture of William, taken just before they lost their parents. Somehow the photographer had gotten him to smile. It was one of Gigi's favorite pictures of him. Judging from Lizzie's fixated look, she found something appealing in it as well, though maybe for very different reasons.

This was very, very promising. Gigi swallowed a noise of glee and saved it for later.

After a minute Lizzie turned, clearing her throat and smoothing the fabric of her clothes unnecessarily. "Sorry, we were headed – that way?"

"That's right. Toward those double doors." Gigi let Lizzie go a few steps ahead so she wouldn't notice her tour guide triumphantly bouncing up and down on her heels. Then she resumed what she hoped was a professional stance before joining Lizzie in the performance space.

Gigi ended up giving away her identity and practically everything else by the time the tour was finished, but it wasn't like she could keep it hidden forever. Just long enough to get a peek at how Lizzie felt about William when she thought no one important was watching her. It was definitely worth a teeny tiny bit of deception.


	11. Only when I first knew her

Darcy had been both cursed and blessed with a sister whose persistence reached near-superhuman levels. He knew it was thanks to her that he had just spent one of the best days of his life giving Lizzie Bennet a tour of San Francisco. On the other hand, Gigi had forced him into far too many awkward moments.

As she was doing now. Rather than be satisfied that he was happy with how the day had gone, she was determined to obtain more specifics about his current feelings, and his long, contorted history with Lizzie.

"William, did you really once think Lizzie was just 'decent enough'?"

He shut the dishwasher with rather more force than necessary. "I thought you were planning on going back to your condo after dinner. So you could get some studying done, I believe?"

"I will, I will," she said impatiently. "But I want to know."

Sighing, Darcy returned to the table. "It's not relevant."

"Not relevant? How can you possibly think that?"

"Gigi." He regarded her seriously. "One cannot put too much weight upon first meetings and first impressions. Perhaps it seems romantic to look back at a single moment, fraught with intimations of destiny, and imagine that everything began at that instant. But such an assumption is not only faulty, it is dangerous. It ignores the possibility of change and growth. It ignores the very existence of free will."

She let out an exasperated gush of air. "Good grief, William. I didn't ask for a lecture. I just wanted to know how you started to fall for Lizzie."

He frowned. "That's not – quantifiable. Nor do I wish to discuss it right now."

"No?" Gigi gave him a sly grin. "Not even after she tweeted you to thank you for an awesome day?"

Darcy's mouth twitched involuntarily upward. "You're going to run out of time to study, Gigi."

She waved a hand. "I'm acing that class anyway. Come on. What did you think when you first met her, really?"

He sighed again, then surrendered. "I thought very little. I was bored and uncomfortable, surrounded by people I didn't know. When we were forced together, I reflected that it was an unfortunate custom, requiring two people to dance even if they were strangers with nothing in common. Those were my primary thoughts. I didn't know Lizzie. What did it matter whether she was pretty or not?"

"And you really said 'decent enough' to Bing? Those were your exact words?"

"I don't remember. It was probably something like that. I had no interest in further dancing with strangers." He drummed the table with his fingers. "I said worse than that a few days later. Bing was waxing poetic about Jane, and said all the Bennet sisters could probably become fashion models if they wanted to. I said it was possible, and it was also possible that their mother could become the newest member of Mensa."

Gigi wrinkled her nose. "William. That was just mean."

"Caroline thought it was hilarious."

"I'm sure she did."

"But you're right," he went on. "It was mean. Too often I would rather be clever than kind. I've regretted that for many months now, as you can imagine."

She smiled again, devious once more. "And what do you think of Lizzie's looks now?"

"Gigi…"

"I know, I know," she said, gathering up her jacket and rising from the table. "It's not quantifiable. But I guess I already know the answer. I've seen how you look at her."

Because she was his sister and he loved her, because of all she had gone through last year, and because she had helped bring Lizzie back into his life, he relented and gave her an answer. "Love is transformative, Gigi. Where I once saw very little to admire, I now see – I see a woman who surpasses every one of my expectations. To call her beautiful would be insufficient, painfully inadequate. I find that words are never enough." He took a breath. "Is that satisfactory?" Looking up, he saw that Gigi's eyes were wet. She came and hugged him wordlessly.

"Okay, gotta study," she finally said, pulling away.

He raised an eyebrow. "You said you were acing your class."

"Yeah, but not studying for a test? Come on, I'm a Darcy. We do what needs to be done, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, we do. Good night, Gigi."

After his sister had gone, Darcy settled back at the table, pulled out his phone and began scrolling through the pictures of Lizzie that Gigi had tweeted throughout the day. He had earned that indulgence, at least. No doubt his admission would have his sister redoubling her matchmaking efforts, doing what she believed _needed to be done_ to save her brother's heart. It drove him insane, but he loved her for it.


	12. Against such an evil

On the way to her father's study, Lizzie had almost changed her mind several times and decided it was better to keep quiet about Lydia's problem. But it wasn't fair to her little sister or to her father. Lydia needed more support, and he needed to know. There was some selfishness in her motivation as well. If he knew, then it could be his judgment whether to tell their mother or not. Lizzie didn't want to have to make that choice.

She wondered if she'd made the wrong call when he couldn't speak for about ten minutes. He paced the floor of the study, rearranging the knick-knacks on the shelves, picking up his pipe and setting it down again, opening his mouth and shutting it without a word coming out. She wanted to break the silence but was afraid to say a thing. Did he blame her? It was her videos, after all, that started the whole mess, and then her fight with Lydia –

He was sinking to his chair, his face in his hand. "Dad?" she finally ventured, softly.

Holding up a hand, he picked up his phone and retrieved a battered old notebook that contained his contacts. He preferred to page through it by hand rather than scroll through a list on his phone. He scanned the pages now, found what he was looking for and dialed a number. Lizzie waited while he left a message for someone named Fred. Then he hung up and said shortly, "Old friend. Private investigator."

"Oh. I see."

He regarded her gravely. Lizzie bit her lip. He looked like he had aged ten years in the last ten minutes. "Thank you for telling me about this, Lizzie."

She nodded, getting up. "I hope – I hope Fred finds something."

"So do I."

Later that week, when he had a call that kept him shut away in his study for nearly an hour, Lizzie allowed her hopes to rise just a little. She shouldn't have allowed it. The private investigator had found nothing but dead ends. She and Jane, back home and unemployed, joined him in the study in quiet commiseration.

"Have you slept at all?" Lizzie asked him with a frown. "You look exhausted."

"No, Lizzie," he said with unexpected sharpness, "don't give me your sympathy. I ought to suffer. I certainly deserve it."

"Please don't say that, Dad," Jane said earnestly.

"I will, and I mean it." He looked from one daughter to the other. "For once let me acknowledge my mistakes. Who let Lydia run wild all her life? She was willful and stubborn, and it was easier to let her do what she wanted than to discipline her. I never showed her the concern and attention I gave the two of you. Should I be surprised that she felt neglected? That she finally found the attention she needed in the form of someone who would exploit her?"

"Dad," Lizzie said, her eyes burning with unshed tears, "this is my fault just as much as yours, if not more –"

"Can we please not play the blame game?" Jane said, startling them with her forceful tone. "We all know who's really to blame here, and it's no one in our family. Doing this won't help Lydia."

"Don't worry," their father said with a sigh, "I'm not about to be overpowered by my guilt. It'll pass soon enough, I'm sure."

Lizzie tried to re-direct the conversation to something more useful, though she knew it was probably grasping at straws. "Do you think we could take some kind of legal action against this company? They have to be breaking a law when it's done without someone's consent."

Their father shrugged heavily. "I'm sure that's true. But such legal actions require lawyers, and fees, and dozens of other resources not at our disposal. Unfortunately, I don't have any old classmates who perform pro bono legal services."

A grim silence fell over the room until Jane stood and said, "Well, I'd better get back to watching for Mom. If she bumps into Lydia after she's done meditating, she's sure to say something about George."

"You know we have to tell her eventually," Lizzie said after Jane left. "How are we going to do it?"

"I thought we might start by telling her Lydia isn't seeing him anymore, and leave out the reasons until…" He trailed off.

Until what? The worst case scenario, the video made public, Lydia's private moment turned into cruel humiliation? Lizzie frowned, but she didn't know any other solutions. Even learning of their breakup would probably send her mother into paroxysms of moaning and wailing. She had really been looking forward to those grandbabies.

A soft meow drew their attention to the door, where Kitty was rubbing the doorpost pitifully. Lizzie went to her and cradled her furry little body in her arms. "Poor Kitty. Even you can tell something is wrong."

"I rather envy her at the moment," her father said dryly. "My life would be far less complicated if I were a cat right now."


	13. No such happy marriage

With that awful website miraculously, mysteriously taken down, Lizzie could focus all her attention on Lydia's healing. There was nothing else to demand her attention; no other higher priority.

So why did she keep getting distracted by unimportant things?

It started when she forced herself to watch Lydia's videos with George Wickham again. As horrifying as it was to see him manipulate her sister and drain away all her vibrant energy, she knew that understanding how he hurt her could help in comprehending what Lydia had to recover from.

But as she watched their toxic relationship progress with alarming speed, she could not help being reminded of some very different exchanges, also caught on camera. As soon as she was done with Lydia's videos, she found herself pulling up the ones she had filmed at Pemberley. Seeing them alongside each other like that, the contrast could not be clearer.

When Lydia showed reluctance, George just pushed harder. When Lizzie turned down Darcy's polite offers, he stepped back and honored her wishes without any attempt to change her mind. George brought up incidents that Lydia was clearly uncomfortable with and used that discomfort to get under her skin. Darcy never mentioned any of Lizzie's blunders and screw-ups, though he would have had plenty to choose from if he wanted to. She even gave him an opening when she mentioned calling him a newsie, but he disregarded it entirely. George took over Lydia's personal space, forcing a physicality that escalated dramatically with every video; Darcy barely dared to poke Lizzie with a finger while playing Fitz.

Speaking of taking over, Lydia's videos from January and February could have been re-named _George Wickham and his Giant Ego_. He led the intros, he guided the direction of their discussions, and he grew into an ever more dominant presence while Lydia shrank and shrank, a mere guest on her own vlog. Darcy never dominated. He came only when he was invited – well, once when was forcibly pushed into the room, but still. He respected her space in more ways than the literal.

He respected her. She had never realized how crucial it was to have respect in a relationship until she saw what happened without it. Never saw what was in front of her until it was too late.

Darcy had screwed up before, majorly. Lizzie hadn't forgotten that. He had been rude and inconsiderate and selfish when he told her he was in love with her. But he learned from his mistakes. He had become a better man than he used to be. And she could admit now that he had always been good, whatever the room for improvement. She had only to look at George to know what a truly awful, selfish, heartless man looked liked.

But now….but now. Darcy hadn't called. Hadn't initiated any contact with her in the two weeks since she left Pemberley. She didn't know how to interpret his silence, but none of her guesses were pleasant. Maybe her family's association with George was just too repellent to him. After the blight he had been upon the Darcy family, she wouldn't quite blame him for that. But couldn't he have called just once to see how she was doing?

Maybe her videos told him enough. Was he even still watching them? Was he relieved to be far away and unconnected to this particular disaster that George had caused? Did he think it was a good thing the phone call had cut off her answer to his invitation to the theater? Did he count himself lucky for escaping her? Maybe it had just been a friendly gesture after all, not a romantic overture. Why should she expect to hear from him now? She shouldn't. She just wanted to.

It was only now, too late, that she recognized what a well-matched couple they could have been. She thought of their similar interests, the spirited conversations they could share. He was the only guy she'd ever met who not only didn't zone out when she started talking about media theory, but actually contributed to the discussion with intelligent insights. Where they were different, they complimented each other nicely. She could make him laugh, teach him to be less stiff and off-putting. With his years of experience in the business world, he could help her find her own footing when she entered the job market. There was more, so much more, so many different ways she could imagine them being happy together. They would practically be the very definition of compatibility.

And yeah, also, she might be in love with him.

But it wasn't going to happen. There would be no sweeping romance on her vlog. Instead, a far more twisted romance had taken place in full view of the Internet. There was nothing to be done. Lizzie could only regret her past behavior and mourn the chance she had lost.


	14. Sent on a fool's errand again

Things hadn't worked out with Lydia and her handsome swim coach, and Lizzie was a lost cause, but Mrs. Bennet was still holding out hope for her eldest. At first she thought Jane might meet some new eligible bachelor in Los Angeles, but having Bing Lee return was even better. There might still be a spring wedding in the near future after all. If only her husband would cooperate.

"No, no. I see no reason to invite Bing over for dinner every single day," he said in spite of all her pleas. "Last May you promised me if we had him over often enough, he'd be our son-in-law within the year. Obviously, it all came to nothing."

"But if we don't shower him with hospitality, some other pretty girl in the neighborhood might snatch him up!"

"My dear, you seemed to be forgetting that it is up to Bing, not us, to decide which pretty girl will snatch him."

"Yes, yes, and he clearly prefers Jane, but we have to _encourage_ it or the wedding won't happen for _years_ , if ever!"

"You are also neglecting to take another person's choices into account," he replied, looking down his nose at her. "Jane's. She has expressly said she prefers to be friends with him. Shall we ignore her wishes?"

"Friends!" Mrs. Bennet repeated with a sniff. "Nonsense. She's still in love with him, I can see it. He feels the same for her. They just need a little push. Don't you worry, dear. We are simply inviting Bing to a _friendly_ family dinner. I will be the height of discretion."

"Ah yes, discretion," her husband said, his mouth twitching. "I would be interested in watching you practice that virtue. Very well, invite him. But you will not force Jane to sit beside him. That is my condition."

He was being very stubborn, but that was no matter. Soon enough, Jane and Bing would be engaged and he would have to admit she had been right all along.


	15. But such another man for you

Jane could have happily spent another hour in the den with Bing, but Lizzie deserved to know what was going on. Besides, Jane was bursting with excitement to tell her and Lydia. She even looked forward to telling her parents, though Dad would tease her and Mom would be – well, she'd be Mom. It didn't matter. Not even the thought of her mother's embarrassing, shameless glee could disturb Jane's happiness at the moment.

"We'd better get out there," Bing said, his forehead still touching hers.

"Mm-hmm." Neither of them moved.

"So…"

She couldn't stop smiling. "Right. Okay."

They walked through the doorway hand in hand, leaving Lizzie no room for doubt when she looked up from her spot in the living room and saw them. A grin slowly spread across her face.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Lizzie said teasingly.

Jane could feel her face heating up, but her smile didn't diminish in the least. Bing kissed her cheek and murmured, "I've got to make some phone calls. I'll be here bright and early tomorrow to see you off, okay?"

She nodded and reluctantly released his hand. "See you then, Bing."

Once he was gone, Jane allowed herself a little squeal. Lizzie immediately ran to her side and hugged her, letting out a squeal of her own. "Okay," she said once they gave each other room to breathe, "now tell me everything."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "Why don't I just show you the video?"

"Oh, we can erase that. Sorry I forgot to shut it off."

"No, no," Jane said, realizing Lizzie had mistaken her teasing for an accusation. "It's fine, I really do want you to see it. You can post it too. I don't mind, and Bing doesn't either."

"Really? Okay. Yeah, I'd love to see it."

So Jane got to watch Lizzie watching the video. She gasped and laughed and sighed at all the right parts, and at the end she hugged Jane again. Then she gave her a serious look. "I want to make sure, though. You're happy with this? This is absolutely what you want?"

"Absolutely." Her eyes were suddenly wet. "Lizzie, I'm so happy I don't even know what to do with it. A dream job, and a fresh start with Bing. I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think there was any way to make it work. But everything's different now, so much better than it was last year. I feel really good about this. It's – it's pretty much perfect."

Upstairs, they showed the video to Lydia and shared another round of tearful hugs. Then Jane went back down to tell her parents. Her mother's shriek of delight was just what she expected, but she wasn't quite sure what her father would think. He, like Lizzie, might feel protective and anxious about the possibility of her heart getting broken again. She hoped he could see that she was going into this with her eyes open, with a different, more mature outlook –

He did. He enveloped Jane in a crushing hug and said, "I'm very happy for you, and very proud of you. The two of you will be the nicest couple in New York. You're both so pleasant that none of your arguments will last more than half an hour, and both so generous that you'll run out of money every month."

"Run out of money?" her mother exclaimed. "My dear, have you forgotten all about his rich family? They couldn't run out of money if they tried! Oh, Jane, of course you've found a happy ending. You're far too beautiful to expect anything less."

"So I have some last minute packing to do," Jane said, hoping to slip away before Mom let out anything else embarrassing.

"Of course, of course!" With a tremendous wink her mother went on, "I suppose you'll need to include a few extra special items in your wardrobe now that you have a handsome boyfriend joining you."

Jane fled, cheeks ablaze.

She didn't mind so much that her bedroom had become a sewing room. She felt right at home among the shelves of fabric. But it would be nice to find her own space in New York. As she tucked the last of her clothes in her suitcase, she reflected ruefully that her mother would probably start urging her to move in with Bing right away. She would ignore it. They could take their time finding their footing again. There was no rush.

A tap sounded on the open door, and she turned to see Lizzie, bearing a small wrapped package. "Your going-away present," she said.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that, Lizzie!"

"I wanted to. Lydia got you something too." She sighed and joined Jane on her bed. "We're going to miss you like crazy."

"I know. Me too."

"So, here you go." Lizzie dropped the present in her lap. "Just a little something. Hope you like it."

Jane pulled off the wrapping paper to find a small photo album, crammed with pictures of the Bennet sisters. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "It's perfect. Thank you, Lizzie." She set the album gently on top of the clothing in her suitcase and began zipping it shut. "Now, there's something I'd like you to do for yourself."

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. "And what is that?"

"Call Darcy."

If Jane had any remaining doubts about Lizzie's feelings for Darcy, her reaction would have obliterated them. She turned bright red, looked down, looked up and stammered, "What? Why? That – that doesn't make any sense. Why would you think –?"

Jane just looked at Lizzie until her protests trailed off. "I finally had the chance to watch your videos from Pemberley," she said quietly. "Before Bing came back. I thought it was better to just get it over with after you warned me that he showed up in them. But there was something I didn't expect - what happened between you and Darcy. Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell," Lizzie said, avoiding eye contact as she always did when she lied.

"Denying it isn't doing you any favors, Lizzie. You were happy around him. I'm never seen you so happy. I want you to be happy, as happy as I am. You deserve it."

"I could never be as happy as you," Lizzie said teasingly, "unless I was also as good as you."

Jane regarded her with a stern older-sister look. "Don't be silly. You can joke around all you want, but if you keep your real feelings bottled up too long, you'll just explode."

"Jane…" Lizzie shook her head and went on thickly, "It's just that – he hasn't shown any interest in being in contact with me. I don't really want to think about what that means."

"It could mean that he's letting you decide what to do. After what happened last fall, I wouldn't be surprised if he feels – skittish."

"After that," Lizzie said with startling bitterness, "I wouldn't be surprised if he wants nothing to do with me at all."

"How could that be true? He didn't act that way at Pemberley."

"I was at his company. He was being nice. Because that's the kind of person he is. Once I left and he didn't have to deal with me any more, that was the end of it."

"That's one possible interpretation. I doubt it's accurate."

Lizzie didn't reply. She looked so miserable, Jane was almost sorry she had brought it up. But she would just continue being miserable until she confronted the issue.

She put her arm around Lizzie and hugged her tight. "Promise me you'll at least consider calling him, okay?"

After a brief silence Lizzie quietly answered, "Okay."

Lydia's present was a collage of Jane's outfits from her Lookbook, sprinkled with liberal amounts of glitter and sequins. It was garish and unapologetically Lydia, a very encouraging sign of her continuing recovery. Between that and Lizzie's promise that she would think about contacting Darcy, Jane could go to New York with the hope of her sisters eventually finding happiness. That was all she could ask for.


	16. A hope shortly checked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using the Domino videos here as a stand-in for her Aunt Gardiner's letter. Seems to work well enough.

Lizzie had re-watched her videos from Pemberley an embarrassing number of times, but she shied away from anything else on the Internet that might be related to Darcy. She could try to come up with reasonable justifications for that avoidance, but the fact was, she was afraid. Darcy from her Pemberley videos was just as she wanted him to be, friendly and warm and focused on her. She couldn't trust that any other version of him would remain so, not when he had made no attempt to contact her. If he wasn't interested in her, she didn't want to know. She'd rather stay ignorant. It wasn't quite bliss, but it was better than knowing the worst.

All of that changed when Lydia told her what Darcy had done.

She sat alone in the den after Lydia had left, staring at the camera. It was off now, but she could still feel its gaze on her as if it represented the eyes of her audience – one member of her audience in particular. Not that Darcy had any reason to watch her videos anymore. But then, the reasoning behind any of his choices was a complete mystery to her.

Why had he done it?

It was time to face reality. She retrieved her laptop and opened it, then brought up a search engine and typed in _William Darcy_.

His company's main website came up, along with a few other peripheral sites. Including – a YouTube channel? Since when did Pemberley Digital have a YouTube channel? She clicked on the link and was startled to find a handful of videos with Gigi's face in the previews. Domino. She dimly remembered someone mentioning its development during her shadowing, among Pemberley's many other projects. She found the first demo and started watching.

By the fourth video, Lizzie was finding it hard to breathe. How had she not known about this? How could she have missed this? Darcy and Gigi and Fitz had all, in one form or another, run themselves ragged tracking down George Wickham. And not to diminish Gigi or Fitz's contributions, but Darcy had taken on more than his share of the burden. He looked exhausted. Exhausted, trying to take care of something that had nothing to do with him, fixing a problem he hadn't caused.

Why?

When Darcy tried to keep Gigi out of it, Lizzie was torn between agreeing with him and wanting to throttle him for being so overbearing. When she saw that scumbag, that brazen jerkface, show up and pretend he had no blame in the matter, she wanted to throw something at him. She cried when Gigi ran out of frame. She gasped when she realized Darcy had gotten his contact information. It was such an emotional roller coaster, she had to pause and gather herself before playing the final video.

Maybe this one, she thought, would finally have the answers. With the crisis over, Darcy would be able to tell Gigi why he had done it. Whether it had anything to do with Lizzie or if that was just a vain, self-absorbed idea she had dreamed up.

Instead, the ending left her with more questions and nothing answered.

They were talking about her, though they carefully avoided saying her name. Gigi thought he would call her or had already called her. He wouldn't and hadn't. He didn't want her to know. He said their last meeting had gone badly, and somehow he thought he carried some of the blame for that.

So he had done all of this out of duty? That sounded like a very Darcy thing to do. It disappointed her, and she immediately felt guilty. Why should it matter if he had been motivated purely by the need to set things right? Either way Lydia was saved from public humiliation and extra pain. Wanting Darcy to have some other, more personal reason was just selfish.

Making amends. How? Lizzie was just as much in the dark as Gigi. By anonymously helping their family and then never contacting her again? It didn't make any sense at all.

Despite her confusion and frustration, she could not help replaying Gigi's conversation with Darcy, watching his face come very close to a smile. Yeah, she was getting obsessive. What a difference a few months could make. Last fall, the sight of his face made her angry, indignant, smug in the assurance of her own superiority. Later, seeing him gave her a twitchy, squirmy guilt in the pit of her stomach.

Now his face was mesmerizing, every little detail, every subtle nuance of his expression. She'd always snorted in disgust at the idea of getting lost in someone's eyes, but here she was, fairly drowning in Darcy's gaze.

Even if he had helped their family from no other inclination than honor and duty, it could only make her admire him more. He had spent tremendous amounts of time, energy and money on finding someone who had considerable motivation and ability to keep well hidden, on acquiring a company whose association with Pemberley could only lead to a lot of awkward trouble, and on confronting and dealing with the one man whose very name made him sick with rage. All of this to rescue Lydia. Whatever Lizzie's other doubts, she knew Darcy wasn't in love with _Lydia_. If he helped her not for personal reasons but because he simply felt it was the right thing to do – well. Men that good were practically an endangered species.

If, on the other hand, he did it for Lizzie because he couldn't stand to see her suffering indirectly through her sister, why had he kept it a secret? Why hadn't he called her? That explanation just didn't fit. It seemed far more likely that he no longer had any interest in contacting her, in having her in his life. And could she really blame him?

He had responded to her criticisms – most of which were entirely unfounded – not with anger or arrogance, but by becoming a better person, and by acting in complete unselfishness to help her family. She was ashamed of herself for everything she had said and thought about him. But she was proud of him.

She watched the last video again. He was proud of his sister; Lizzie was proud of him. He admitted his mistakes and tried to do better. Tried and succeeded. She even found a little pleasure in the fact that Gigi still hoped there was something romantic between them, even if that pleasure was mixed with regret. Pausing the video, she looked at his half-smiling face frozen on her screen. And looked. She couldn't seem to look away.

At last a knock at the door startled her out of her daze, accompanied by Lydia's subdued voice. "Hey, Lizzie, Mom says dinner's ready."

"O-okay," she answered hoarsely. She blinked, then shut her laptop with shaking hands.


	17. Excessively diverted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist writing another Ricky Collins moment...

Well, this was an interesting complication.

Mr. Bennet looked at the phone he held, thoughtfully tapping his pipe against the desk with his free hand. After a moment his gaze drifted to a picture of his three daughters. All of them smiling broadly. He missed their smiles. Jane's had returned, thankfully, before she left for New York, but Lizzie and Lydia's were still missing for the most part. Lydia would get there when she was ready. Lizzie, his obstinate Lizzie, might need a little push.

He got up, opened the door and saw her sitting at the kitchen table, bent over her computer. "Lizzie, could I see you in here for a moment?"

She turned with a start. "Oh. Sure." Strangely, she shut up the laptop and brought it with her into his study. "What is it?" she asked as she took a seat across from him.

"I recently received a surprising phone message. Since it concerns you, I thought you ought to hear it." She looked at him, perplexed, as he continued, "It appears a certain young man is very interested in your – relationship status."

Lizzie's jaw dropped, her face turning a revealing shade of pink. "He called _you_?" she choked before biting her lip as if afraid of any other words that might escape.

"I should clarify," Mr. Bennet said, eyeing her knowingly. "This message was from Ricky Collins."

Her attempt to hide her disappointment was admirable, though ultimately a failure. "Ricky? What –"

"Let's just listen, shall we?" He started playing the message, leaned back and watched Lizzie react.

_Mr. Bennet! As a former neighbor and longtime friend of your family, I felt it was not at all out of line to offer my congratulations upon the professional attainments of your eldest daughter, as well as her romantic connection with an excellent young man. It is my understanding that this connection will foment the formation of further romantic associations involving another family member – to be frank, between my V.C.'s nephew and your middle daughter._

Lizzie's eyes widened. "Dad," she managed, "do I really have to keep listening to –"

"Shh. It's almost over."

_I have contacted you, Mr. Bennet, because I feared that what I have to say is best kept from the delicate ears of your wife. As excellent a connection as this would be, Ms. de Bourgh does not look upon it with, shall we say, a friendly eye._

There the message cut off, and Lizzie stood in a rush. "Thanks for the joke, Dad. Can I leave now?"

He shook his head, went to the next message and started playing it. Ricky Collins was talking much more rapidly at this point.

_Ah, Mr. Bennet! It appears that I was prohibited from completing my message in the required time, but I shall endeavor to finish with expeditious speed. I mention Ms. de Bourgh's disapproval only as a friendly warning that there may be an obstacle or two in the path to domestic felicity. You might counsel your daughter in this matter as you see fit. You may also apprise her of a potential competitor in securing the affections of her intended, for it is my understanding that Miss Caroline Lee is a longtime friend of my V.C.'s nephew, and her preferred choice for that nephew's romantic partner. He may, after all, find it somewhat distasteful to be associated with a family so recently involved with a disgraceful event –_

Yet another cutoff. Mr. Bennet set his phone aside and said, "I won't insult your intelligence by making you listen to more than that."

"I don't know why you wanted me to hear any of it," Lizzie said, her tone rising into a babbling panic. "Obviously, Ricky's completely lost his mind. How could he come up with something that ridiculous?"

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "There's not an ounce of truth in any of this?"

"Of course not."

"Hmm. And I suppose the visit from Caroline today that your mother mentioned – that was just a friendly hello?"

"Caroline's as crazy as Ricky," Lizzie muttered.

"Maybe so," he said. "But silly people are usually entertaining. We can laugh at their absurdities and then happily forget about them. You don't seem entertained, Lizzie. Why is it so hard to laugh about this?"

Lizzie's hands were wrapped tight around her laptop. "Please," she said in a low voice, "Don't ask me that. I just – I'd just like to be alone right now, okay?"

He stood, walked to her chair, and squeezed her shoulders. "As you will, Lizzie. You know I love you, laughing or not. I only want you to be as happy as you deserve."

She managed a weak smile, a ghost of the one in his picture. "Thanks. I love you too, Dad."


	18. Such I might still have been but for you

Darcy had forgotten the camera was filming long ago – probably right at the moment of their first kiss. He was reminded of it only when Lizzie got up to shut it off. Then, realizing that they were finally, truly and completely alone, he stood and met her eyes with what he hoped was a smolder. It seemed to work, judging from the low noise she made in her throat as she threw her arms up around his neck and drew his face close to hers.

"So…" she murmured.

"So…"

The tension was at once unbearable and delicious. Darcy waited just as long as he could bear, then captured her lips with his, letting loose every restraint.

He had always prided himself on being a man of moderation. His clothing was tasteful and refined, never flashy. He never got drunk. He never slept late. Outsiders assumed this meant he had no passion, that his mood was perpetually staid and bland. On the contrary. Moderation was empowering. At this moment, with all his barriers gone, he could not imagine that any man had ever felt more passionate about any woman.

Lizzie seemed to appreciate it.

Somehow they ended up on the sofa that rested against the far wall of the den. Lizzie had pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned his vest, and for once he could easily ignore the impulse to smooth the fabric and rearrange the rumples. He was far more preoccupied with kissing the soft skin along her neck, making her giggle his name, _William_ , which in turn only made him want to kiss her more.

"I was wondering," she said in a dreamy voice that he loved because it was only for him.

"Hmm?"

"How could you get your hopes up from that video? The one with Caroline? I mean," she straightened, drawing her neck tantalizingly just out his reach, "I didn't say a single nice thing about you. I was way too scared to admit I wanted to be with you, so – how could you get any hope out of that?"

He frowned slightly. "To be frank, it was what you _didn't_ say that struck me. In the past, you never hesitated to speak your mind."

"That's a nice way of putting it," Lizzie said with a grimace.

"But this time you seemed reluctant to say too much. When you spoke of us, I wondered if there was something more that remained unspoken. You never said you were opposed to the idea of us as a couple. The absence of that, alone, was promising."

"Yeah, I wasn't exactly shy about rejecting you in full view of my audience," she said, settling down to rest against his chest. "And insulting you, and calling you names, and making all those accusations –"

She really seemed distressed now, and he had to stop her. "Didn't I deserve it, though? You might have been mistaken about certain things you thought I'd done, but your criticism of my behavior was fully justified. The selfish, thoughtless way I approached you when I told you how I felt – I find it hard to think of it now without hating myself."

Putting a finger to his lips, Lizzie said sternly, "You're not allowed to hate yourself. I absolutely forbid it."

He smiled and kissed her finger. "I'll try not to. If you insist." She began fingering the buttons of his shirt, sending a thrill through his body, but he forced himself not to get distracted. He needed her to understand. "At the time, I told myself that you wouldn't have rejected me if I hadn't been so blunt, if I had instead gratified your pride. Your videos taught me otherwise."

"Don't remind me. I was horrible. I've been ashamed of it for months."

"I don't want to bring up anything that would cause us further pain," he said softly, tracing a pattern along her arm. "But I'd like to know if my letter made a significant difference in your understanding of me."

"Of course it did. Even as angry and prejudiced as I was, I had to admit its truth."

"I'm sorry for the distress it must have caused you. There seemed no other way to convey what you needed to know." He could not restrain a shudder. "I'm afraid it wasn't kind at all. I hope you've destroyed it by now."

She lifted her head. "Destroyed it? Really? That seems a little drastic."

"I thought I was calm when I wrote it, but looking back, I can see how bitter I still was."

"Maybe at the start of it, but not by the ending," Lizzie said, drawing herself up to bring her gaze level with his. "By the time I finished it, I had a glimpse of the good sort of man you really were."

He sighed. "I was taught to be good throughout my childhood. But I was good only in a selfish sense, following principles out of a sense of pride. As I grew into adulthood, I surrounded myself with people who were eager to like me and had no interest in critiquing my behavior. So I would have gone on forever, conceited and proud," gently he brushed her hair back from her face, "if it weren't for you."

Her nose wrinkled up. "I'm not sure I like the idea that I fixed you."

"You didn't. You just gave me ample motivation to change on my own."

"Fair enough." Laughing, she added, "It seems the Bennet sisters have a gift for making men reevaluate their life choices. Now tell me the truth – how much were you really involved in getting Bing and Jane back together?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I had nothing to do with it. He called me after the fact to let me know it would be in your videos."

"But you must have at least told him about my videos in the first place, right?"

"No. He discovered them on his own, apparently. I thought we had agreed it was best not to interfere."

"So you really were talking about Bing and Jane." She glanced at him sideways. "I thought there might have been some subtext about us."

"Oh, there was subtext," he replied in a low voice.

At that, Lizzie gripped his tie and pulled him into a searing kiss.


	19. These violent young lovers

This was far too much fun.

Darcy was a serious young man, serious to a fault. Which meant Lizzie would be very good for him. Mr. Bennet could already note the effect she was beginning to have on him, though he had a long way to go. He seemed to accept Lizzie’s teasing, even enjoy it some, but when Mr. Bennet ribbed him, he turned even stiffer and more awkward than usual. 

Making it all the more fun for Mr. Bennet.

After dinner, he gave Darcy a stern look and asked if he would join him in his study. Darcy went white, glanced at Lizzie’s encouraging nod, tucked his chin into his neck and said, “Yes, of course.”

Once they were alone with the door shut, Mr. Bennet eyed Darcy for a long moment, letting him sweat a bit. Then he said, “Let’s have a look at my trains.”

“E-excuse me?”

“My trains.” He beckoned toward the tidily stacked crates in the corner of his study. “I thought as someone who appreciates an attention to detail and order, you would enjoy a look at my train collection. It’s quite elaborate.”

“Oh. Of course.” 

Mr. Bennet had to hide a smile at Darcy’s obvious relief. 

He liked Darcy, liked that they shared a taste for things that were quiet and calm. They examined his collection with very little need to talk. No useless chatter, just the occasional comment about this or that train. But naturally, once Mr. Bennet had lulled him into a comfortable state, he had to startle him out of it.

“So, you and Lizzie.”

Darcy went very still, then slowly, slowly set down the train he was holding and looked at Mr. Bennet. “Yes.”

He was steadier than Mr. Bennet had given him credit for. Good for him. “It seems you make my daughter very happy. That’s all I could ask for.”

A pause, then, “I’m glad you think so, sir.”

“No, no, don’t _sir_ me. You’re the CEO here. If anything I should be calling you sir. Not that I plan to,” he added with a wry smile when Darcy looked ready to protest. “And let’s be clear. I’m not granting my permission, because it’s not mine to give. Lizzie will do whatever she pleases. Ask her mother to back me up on that point.”

Darcy came very close to smiling.

“I’d just like to thank you for making my Lizzie happy. And, of course, ask your opinion on my train collection.”

“Of course.”

After Darcy had professed his admiration of the trains, Mr. Bennet asked him to send Lizzie in.

She entered warily. “Dad, what’s going on with all these secret meetings in your study? Are you trying to scare us?”

“Are you scared?” he asked casually.

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Is Darcy?”

“No. He was actually smiling. Not that anyone else would have recognized it for a smile.” She said this so fondly Mr. Bennet had to restrain a laugh.

“You enjoy his barely-perceptible smiles, then?” he said, somehow remaining straight-faced.

“Yeah…” She flipped absently through the pages of a book on his desk, probably unaware of her own broad smile. “I kind of like everything about him.”

“That’s quite a change your feelings have gone through.”

Lizzie flushed. “Do you have to remind me? I’m just lucky he’s willing to overlook all that.”

“He wouldn’t deserve you if he wasn’t willing to do that,” Mr. Bennet said. “And we’ve had our fill of undeserving young men around here, haven’t we?”

A shadow briefly crossed her face. “Absolutely.”

“Which reminds me,” he went on with a chuckle, “I’ve been at quite a loss how to resolve this matter of our family’s debt to William Darcy. But this takes care of everything quite nicely.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I’ll go through the motions of offering to repay him at some point, he’ll rant and storm about his love for you, and that will put an end to the entire issue.”

Lizzie’s face reddened further, but she let out an involuntary noise of hilarity, probably at the notion of Darcy ranting and storming. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Dad.”

“It’s a matter of duty,” he said with a solemn tone belied by his wink. “It may also be quite entertaining. Don’t make that face, Lizzie. I consider it my right to find entertainment wherever and whenever I please. I hope you’re laughing more yourself now. Shall we play that message from Ricky Collins again and see if we can get a chuckle or two out of you?”

“No!” She was trying so hard to fight a smile; it was really heroic. “Come on, Dad.”

“Very well, very well. Run along and rescue your rich handsome young man from your mother.”


	20. A man who had felt less might

Lizzie's face was beginning to hurt from over-smiling. This time it was completely genuine, and she didn't plan on stopping even though the pain was really kind of serious. Being with William did that to her.

"I have a theory," she said as they walked hand in hand out of the restaurant and along the twilit thoroughfare.

"Oh?" She could tell he was smiling as well even though it was getting too dark to see.

"Yes, about how you fell for me."

"Really. I'm curious to hear what you've come up with."

"Well, it wasn't my looks. You were able to resist that allure for a long time." She hurried on, knowing that even when she was teasing, he would want to apologize. "It couldn't have been my charming personality. I was pretty much always rude to you, always looking to start an argument. So…" She craned her neck upward, the only way she could meet his eyes when they weren't sitting down. "Be honest. You fell for me because I was disagreeable, didn't you?"

He gripped her hand. "I would rather say you were – lively."

"Call it whatever you want," she laughed as they continued down the sidewalk. "But you can't deny it. I refused to agree with you, and you couldn't resist it. People were always falling all over themselves to get on your good side – especially women –" accompanied by a sly nudge of the elbow, "and then I came along, the exact opposite, eager to find fault with every word you spoke. Of course I fascinated you. There, I've figured it out for you. It makes perfect sense."

"You're not giving your goodness nearly enough credit," William said quietly. Of course he was taking this far too seriously.

"You wouldn't have seen much of that, the way I treated you. Besides, no one thinks of boring stuff like _goodness_ when they're falling for someone, right?"

"I saw plenty of goodness in you. In your relationship with Jane as well as Charlotte –"

"I notice you're not mentioning Lydia," Lizzie said ruefully.

"That was my fault; it had nothing to do with you. I overlooked her because I found her annoying. But I would have seen your goodness there too, if I'd been looking."

"I'm not about to discourage you from singing my praises," she said, slipping his arm around her waist. "You're welcome to exaggerate my goodness as much as you want; that's your job."

"And what is your job?"

"To continue providing you with that – ahem – liveliness you find so alluring."

"Please do."

"Well, as long as you're welcoming a bit of teasing," she gave him a devious look, "I'd like to know just how long it would have taken you to make a move if I hadn't called you."

He tensed. "That doesn't seem like a very entertaining speculation."

"So you never would have done _anything_?"

"I thought that was what you preferred. You were repairing your relationship with your sister. I would never want to intrude on that."

"Which was very noble and admirable of you, but it's so weird that you could watch my videos and not see how miserable I was when you didn't contact me."

"I had misinterpreted your feelings very badly in the past, hadn't I?"

She cringed. "True."

"I did consider contacting you more than once. I couldn't do it. Perhaps, if we had only been friends, I might have ventured a phone call. If my feelings were merely friendly it would have been easier. As it was, it was hard enough to convey everything I felt even in person."

"Oh, you conveyed it quite eloquently," she murmured, rising on tiptoes to kiss the spot behind his ear. Good thing they had just arrived at the car. There were only so many public displays of affection William was willing to participate in. "But you could see it now, couldn't you?" she asked as they settled in their seats and buckled in. "If you re-watched those videos from after Pemberley, you'd be able to recognize all the signs that I had fallen in love with you, right?"

He was very still, and she wondered if she had somehow gone too far in her teasing. What could she have said that would offend him like that? But a closer look at his face in the moonlight told her otherwise. He had the appearance of someone who feared he might wake up from a dream.

"In love with me," he said tentatively, glancing at her as if waiting for her to backtrack or contradict her hasty words.

She finally understood, realized that for everything she had implicitly shown him over the last week, she hadn't yet expressed it in words. "Were you still in doubt about that?" she had to wonder.

"I only thought," he cleared his throat, "I thought it might be too early to hope for that. I didn't want you to feel pressured to move faster than you were comfortable."

"William." She put her hand over his. "I wouldn't be planning on moving to San Francisco and starting a whole new life with you just because I kind of liked you. And frankly, I wouldn't want to start a relationship with a guy who loved me when I didn't feel the same for him. It wouldn't be – balanced."

"That's all very reasonable." He took a breath. "I suppose my mind doesn't operate entirely by reason."

"That's one of the things I love about you. And I do." She looked unblinkingly into his eyes. "I love you, William Darcy."

"I love you, Lizzie Bennet."

She was startled when his kiss carried the salty taste of tears.


	21. Half as well as I do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the last one. Thank you all, again, for reading and following!

The day that Lizzie moved to San Francisco and started unpacking her things, she found an envelope. It was in one of several boxes crammed with books, tucked between the pages of her copy of _Little Women_. For a moment she thought William had somehow slipped it in there, but it was plain paper, devoid of his wonderfully anachronistic wax seal. And that certainly wasn't his handwriting. He wouldn't be caught dead putting a little heart above the i in _Lizzie_.

She opened it.

_Dear Lizzie,_

_My therapist told me I should write down some of my thoughts, but I feel stupid putting them in a diary or something. Like I'm trying to talk to a piece of paper. So I'm writing to you and Jane and some other people._

_So, you're going to San Francisco. I know you're worried to move away from me because over the past couple weeks you've reminded me, like twenty times, to come and visit you a lot. Don't worry. I mean, yeah, I kind of wish you could always be around, but that's not fair for you, is it? You didn't make Jane stay when she got the job in New York. And you don't deserve any less than her. You have your own life and all that stuff. I know you're not abandoning me. Now that I've said that, I should give you a fair warning: I'm going to show up on your doorstep a lot. Who else is going to make sure you have fun?_

_Okay, now I have to talk about Darcy._

_I had to stop writing for a while. It's so stupid how hard it is just to write words on a piece of paper. I really hate it when my hands start shaking and there's just no good reason for it. It's better now. Okay._

_When you told me you and Darcy had hooked up – well, I already knew it, because I heard the doorbell and I came down and saw him before he went to see you, so I wasn't surprised. But you seemed like you were kind of apologizing to me for it, and that made me angry. Not at you, not really. Anger is confusing and stupid and sometimes it's hard to tell where it's really coming from. I know you think it all comes back to_ him, _but it's not that simple._

_Okay, I had to take another break. See, Lizzie, it's like there's two of him. The George I knew, and the George everyone else knew. And maybe the George I knew wasn't real, but he was real to me, and everything I felt was real, and I can't be mad at that because it would be like getting mad at myself. My therapist said that none of my feelings were wrong or something I should feel guilty for, and even though I didn't believe her at first, I'm starting to understand it._

_I said all of that so I can explain this. I was angry because you felt like you had to apologize for being with Darcy. And you shouldn't. Just because I went through all that crappy stuff doesn't mean you can't be in a happy relationship. If you were lonely and depressed, it wouldn't make me feel better. Duh. It doesn't work that way, sis. Yeah, okay, I do sometimes feel jealous of you and Jane. Other times, though, I see you with your boyfriends and think, you know, there are still great guys in the world. Not every guy pretends to be something he's not. That's a good thing to know._

_But don't you dare try to set me up with some friend of a friend when I come to visit._

_Anyway, my hand is totes cramped, so I'm going to stop. You don't have to write a letter back to me. We can call and send texts like normal people. But this was good. I guess my therapist's pretty smart about stuff like this._

_Hope your move is going well. Don't spend the whole afternoon unpacking. Go out and do something super crazy and fun with your rich hot boyfriend. Or you can just sit around talking about nerdy things. Whatevs._

_Love ya,_

_Lydia_

She was sniffling by the time she folded up the letter, making William look up in alarm. He was sitting just a few feet away, meticulously organizing the contents of her boxes into various categories, but she had nearly forgotten he was there. "What is it?" he asked, getting to his feet.

She shook her head. "It's fine. A note from Lydia." She put the letter back in the book and stood up to join him. "Let's leave this for later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup." She took his hand, and they started for the door together. "It's the first day of my new life. I want to make some memories."


End file.
